Nico di Angelo was taking a much needed nap when an insistent pounding on the door of his cabin roused him. Only after pulling his pillow over his ears and counting to fifty did he begrudgingly rise to greet his visitor. When he opened the door, he was met by a grinning Rachel Elizabeth Dare, dressed in a traditional Greek toga and carrying a set of Greek armor. He hardly had enough time to open his mouth to let out a snarky (if somewhat drowsy) remark, before she stepped inside and shoved the armor into his arms.

"Hurry up and put it on. We're going to be late."

"You expect me to put this on?" he said. "Why do you-"

"It's Halloween. Honestly, I'm surprised you aren't already on top of it. Shouldn't this be right up your alley, Ghost King?"

"Little kids and candy don't actually fall under my father's jurisdiction, contrary to popular belief," he rolled his eyes, already feeling himself tense.

That was precisely why he hated Halloween. The son-of-Hades jokes were out of hand as it was on every normal day of the year. Halloween was just everyone's favorite excuse to take them that much further. This year, he opted to confine himself to his cabin in hopes of avoiding the frustration. The last thing he needed was Rachel Elizabeth Dare on his doorstep, ready and waiting to harass him.

"Are you going to put it on or what?" she said.

"What?"

"The armor, Nico. Are you going to put it on or not?"

He looked at her for a moment, one eyebrow quirked as if to ask if she was expecting a serious answer.

"Look, it's up to you if you wear it or not, but you're coming with me regardless. Wearing the armor will only make you look less stupid."

He looked at her for a moment, more in exasperation than surprise. It wouldn't even be worth it to ask where she intended to go. Judging from the look on her face, it would be even more futile to attempt to object to going in the first place. She stood before him with her hands set on her lips and her face tilted upward to meet his eyes. Rachel was, as always, the picture of smug determination, unruly and unyielding. If she wanted him to go somewhere with her, he would end up going whether he liked it or not. Worst of all, he usually ended up liking it.

That did not mean he had to give in entirely though.

"I'm not wearing the costume," he told her as he grabbed his jacket.

She only smiled in response, dropping the armor onto his bed and following after him with the type of bright smile that so easily dissolved the last of his bitter protests.

Two hours later, he found himself regretting his decision as he trailed along behind her, carrying the candy-filled pillowcase she delegated him to carry.

"Why do I have to carry it? You were the one trick-or-treating."

"Exactly," she said airily. "It's your penance for being a bad sport."

He let out a nondescript grumble, but went along with it. After all, the less he complained, the sooner he assumed she would let him return to camp and to the comfortable solitude of his cabin. He was exhausted from chasing after her all night as she all but skipped from house to house, all the while trying to coerce him into joining her. His resolve held out to the last, but his energy faded quickly. The night had been a completely different kind of unbearable from the usual taunts and comments he initially dreaded. Standing there with her in the frigid night air, he thought for a moment he might have preferred to be at camp with the Stoll brothers teasing him about ghosts and ghouls and other foolish things.

"You could at least pretend you're having a good time," she remarked after a long stretch of silence.

"Hm?"

"It's not entirely my fault, you know. Trick-or-treating is always like this. Not as fun as it sounds, I mean," she said it quietly, removing any of the usual bite the words might carry. "I just thought you ought to go at least once…You've never been before, right?"

"Yeah," said Nico, his voice betraying his surprise.

"My parents never took me when I was little. I was thirteen the first time I went, and I used to want to go so badly, just because I never had," she shrugged as if to push away the serious undertone to her explanation. "Since you've never been…I thought somebody should take you."

"Rachel," he said more softly than he intended.

To his dismay he found he had not the slightest clue what to say after that. He spoke only to keep her from rambling, as she was keen to do when uncomfortable, and to attempt to ease the sudden tension that had sprung up between them.

Not once in the two hours they had been out together did it occur to him that she dragged him along for his benefit. When she appeared on his doorstep with that stubborn smirk on her face, he immediately assumed it was another one of her elaborate plans he couldn't pretend to understand, or that she just wanted him to tag along to keep her company. For a moment, he almost felt guilty for giving her such a hard time about it.

"When I was thirteen, I might have wanted to go," he forced the same laughing tone his voice usually took on when the two teased each other. "But I'm seventeen, Rachel. There are more important things than free candy."

Rachel immediately mirrored his amusement, pushing back at him with all the same energy he responded to her with. The strange expression on her face shifted seamlessly to an exaggerated look of doubt, the corners of her mouth twitching from the effort of trying to suppress her smile.

"More important than free candy? Like what?"

"Like sleeping, for one."

"Oh please, like you don't sleep 90% of the time anyway. I'm hardly cutting into your beauty sleep, di Angelo."

"Hey! With great power comes-"

"Great need to take a nap, yeah, I know."

The two looked at each other, grinning. After a pause, Nico leaned into her and nudged her shoulder gently.

"We've got at least half an hour before everyone stops answering their doors," he said. "You still have that extra pillowcase, right?"

She held it up, handing it to him and taking her own pillow case back from him.

"I bet I'll get more candy than you."

"Oh, not a chance, Zombie Boy."